Fairytales
by xsparksflyx
Summary: Faith, trust, and pixie dust doesn't always do the trick.


_Silly Cinderella_, I thought as I picked up the glass slipper. She inspired a whole generation of unrealistic love stories and high expectations. In reality, Prince Charming doesn't always find his true love, or he's a cheater, a liar, or unable to withstand commitment. Prince Charming only exists in the minds and hearts of naïve women. Fairytales are a simple way of passing time for those who don't know any better.

As I slid the slipper onto my foot to assure it still fit, Joe knocked on my bedroom door. He wore his undershirt and boxers, holding up a few selections of what to wear for the night. I scooted over on the bed and patted the spot next to me to invite him to sit. A smile lit up his face when he saw me in only undergarments, and he accepted my invitation, closing the door behind him before walking toward the bed.

"Which is the best?" he asked as he laid down the articles of clothing on the bed. He smoothed over the material of one of the slightly wrinkled shirts with his soft hand, his fingertips paying special attention to straightening the line of buttons.

"I think you'd look really good in the black one," I answered, adding on, "matched with the red tie."

"Mm, the eye of a fashionista," he replied, sounding sarcastically impressed. He picked up the outfit I'd chosen and a pair of solid black pants, then kissed my cheek before heading back to the bathroom to take a shower.

I fixed my strapless bra, adjusting it to be a little tighter, and stood up to head to my closet. There, in front of my dress, hung the flyer for the school's fairytale-themed prom. I tugged it from the hanger and let it fall to the floor, then pulled the dress from it and laid it on the bed. It was a white dress with a modest amount of sequins, and it was supposed to help my portrayal of Cinderella. Joe was my Prince Charming, but that wasn't supposed to mean anything in reality. It was a ridiculous dance where people dressed up as characters who could never survive in today's world. Plus, Joe understood. He had my mindset, where true, everlasting love could never exist and that every intimate relationship ends up being a fling, and that what we had was nothing more. I believed it, too.

I heard the water from the shower stop, so I headed over to the bathroom and allowed myself in. I pressed my dry body against his wet one, and I looked at us in the mirror. We looked like we belonged together in that very moment. I placed a hand on his chest when he kissed my lips, and we went at it for a few minutes until he unclasped my bra. "Joe," I said, "we have half an hour left."

"Miles," he groaned, putting my bra on my chest again. "Fine, but you owe me," he chuckled, spanking me as soon as I hopped off the vanity.

"Oh, shut up," I laughed, pulling him toward my room with his outfit. I dressed him – we always found stuff like that fun – by first pulling his boxers over his wet legs.

"Joe, you're soaked!" I squealed, wiping my hands off on his boxers. He took a towel that was left on my floor from however many days ago and dried himself. I finished dressing him, finishing him off by pulling his tuxedo jacket over his shoulders. "The definition of handsome," I spoke, giggling a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he chuckled, lying down on my bed.

I dressed myself as his mind wandered off. The skirt of the dress wasn't too "poofy" – I hated those – and the torso part hugged my chest perfectly. I sat down at my desk and moved the mirror so that it was in front of me as I applied my make-up.

"I don't know why we're even going to this, Miles," Joe spoke up as he played with his silky tie. "We both know it's ridiculous." He came up behind me, rubbing his soothing hands over my bare shoulders.

"It's one of our last high school experiences, and we have nothing better to do," I looked up at him, pecking his hand.

"But you don't believe in fairytales," he reminded me, "and you sure don't like Cinderella."

I shrugged a bit, letting him take me to a whole new world – no fairytale pun intended – as he massaged my neck. "Then why'd you agree to it?"

"'Cause we're together," he answered, pressing his warm lips to the base of my neck.

"And you always say that doesn't mean much in the long run," I shot back, running the lipstick over my lips.

"Yeah, whatever," he rolled his eyes incredulously and squatted down, spinning my chair so I was looking at him. He rubbed my feet, his soft hands taking a new location with the same massage.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I creased my eyebrows together and lifted my dress a bit, allowing him to start rubbing my leg.

"Well," he leaned over, picking up one of my glass slippers and sliding it onto my foot, "maybe you haven't thought things through fully."

"But that's the point.. We've thought it through more than everyone else," I replied, wiggling my toes in the shoe.

"Maybe we should think about it more," he shrugged. "Where's your other shoe?"

"I dunno.. And what do you mean?" We looked around for my other shoe, and Joe took his hands off of me.

"Well," he scanned the area for the shoe, then pointed when he saw it on the desk where I had just been. "Sometimes, you don't know what's right in front of you.."

"Again, what?" I replied, wondering why the hell he was being so deep about finding a shoe.

"I meant it for both the shoe and our relationship, Miley," he bit his lip. "Maybe we should think a little further. Ya know, give something more a shot. My opinion on the whole 'everything is just a fling' idea has changed."

And the kiss he gave me changed mine, too.


End file.
